


Rooibos

by Misaya



Series: Teacup and Saucer [4]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Established Levi/Erwin Smith, Established Relationship, Fingerfucking, Light-Hearted, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, softcore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:17:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4163637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misaya/pseuds/Misaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi is the bravest man that Erwin knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rooibos

**Author's Note:**

> Rooibos is a type of herbal tea that tastes different depending on a number of factors, such as who's drinking it and that person's particular taste profile, how long the tea is steeped, etc. It can taste sweet, smoky, nutty, what have you.

It isn't easy for Levi to relinquish control, and Erwin is well aware of this fact. But, times like this, he appreciates the fact that Levi at least makes an effort to try.

"It's dirty down there," Levi hisses as Erwin drags him back now, hands tugging at Levi's wrists to get him to move back a bit so he is situated directly over Erwin's face. "What would the new recruits say, seeing you, seeing us like this?" he snaps, but his tone has no real vitriol in it. He has already surrendered, clear to read in the way he stops struggling against Erwin's grasp, and his protests now are mostly for show.

"What could they say?" Erwin asks, but his words are slightly muffled as he nips lightly at the curve of Levi's buttocks. Levi shivers at the vibration. "If anything, they'd say something like 'Oh, fine weather we're having Commander; do you need your boots shined, Captain?' They dote on you, you know." He is referring to the recruits they've only just recently picked up, fresh-faced, hopeful, still all but children and wet behind the ears, eager to jump at his or Levi's slightest command. But they have fire in their eyes and vigor in their hearts, and he has no doubt they will make fine additions to the Scouting Legion. Or perhaps they will go straight into the bellies of the Titans, death coming to claim them with indiscriminate hands stained with the blood of their predecessors -

"Oi. Erwin. You're thinking again," Levi says, gently running a hand through Erwin's blonde hair, which is already tousled on the pillow beneath his head. He looks up, can just barely make out Levi's face past the smooth planes of his abdomen and his swollen, rosy flesh, standing stiff in Erwin's direct line of vision, begging to be touched though Levi himself will never verbalize. "Come on. You've already got me worked up, so you should take care of it."

Erwin presses a kiss to the sac, tight and smooth between Levi's thighs, revels in the shudder that he can feel in the hand he has placed at the small of Levi's back. He flicks the flat of his tongue over wrinkled skin, heated cherry, a taste like almonds and soap and salt and something that is distinctly, lovelily Levi, something that Erwin can never hope to quantify even if he spends the rest of his life tasting every flavor in the world.

His arms reach around, drifting down, pulling Levi apart to lick and kiss and taste, lips plush against the furled heat of Levi's entrance. Levi gasps, leaning over Erwin, his back arching delicately, sinuous curve that fits perfectly into the cradle of Erwin's palms. His shadow drowns out the sun, the golden light of late afternoon replaced with the cream and ivory of Levi's skin, pale pink irritations strips across perfection from where the straps of the maneuver gear have dug in too tightly.

Erwin licks, the tip of his tongue teasing against the tight curl of muscle, and Levi whines, voice high and wounded-sounding, and Erwin admires his vulnerability, admires how difficult it must have been for him to relinquish the fine veneer of control he has worked so hard to polish. Levi is the bravest man he has ever known.

He nudges with the tip of his tongue until the muscle blossoms, rose petals, against his lips, opening and allowing him entry. Despite Levi's half-hearted, half-moaned protests, he presses his tongue in, probing at velvet hot inner walls. Levi tastes sweet and smoky, the earth and the sky simultaneously against his tongue, feels trembling, delicate putty in his hands as his hips begin to move of their own accord.

"Erwin." Levi's voice is strained, gritted, as erwin works his index finger in, saliva slick, next to his tongue. He feels around, stroking gentle, prodding until he feels a slightly raised bump beneath his fingertip. He feels, more than hears, Levi's groan, grins at the way Levi's hips buck back into his hand, truthful and desperate in their honesty. Levi's hands are almost painfully fisted in Erwin's hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp, but Erwin bears it, because he has already asked Levi to give up so much, and he cannot possibly forsake him this.

"Erwin." His name is a sob now, Levi's hips canting frantic, back and forth, caught between Erwin's mouth, which has pulled off to suck Levi's sac between plush lips, and Erwin's hand, a second finger slotting in neat beside the first and massaging slow and steady to give Levi at least some modicum of control, some type of rhythm to understand and anticipate.

Levi's moans dissolve into sobs dissolve into barely choked out cries, and Erwin chases the frenzied motions of Levi's hips with his hands, tongue working double around the base of Levi's cock, which has started to twitch frantic. A particularly firm stroke of his fingers, accompanied with a final decisive suck, has Levi spilling with a broken sounding whimper, coming across his belly, dribbling sticky sweet into Erwin's hair. Erwin works him down gently, soothing licks now, tender, hand pulling away, out, to come to rest on the curve of Levi's hip.

Once the shudders and twitches have abated, Levi wriggles down to rest his head in the crook of Erwin's neck. "You've got come in your hair," he informs him, lips moving petal soft against Erwin's pulse. "What would the new recruits have to say about that?" His words are slurry, the sharp knives of Levi's syllables dulled with fatigue and satisfaction. Erwin takes particular pride in how Levi relaxes, languid-limbed, loose-boned against him, praises whatever divinities exist for allowing him to experience this particular facet of the glorious being lying against him. His angel. His devil. His in-between, gorgeous, flawed, human love. 

"They would probably say that the look suits me," Erwin says, grinning as he places a kiss to Levi's temple, the roots of his dark hair damp from sweat against his lips.


End file.
